


Take It to the Limit

by VeraBAdler



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, Frottage, M/M, Sex in/on the Impala (Supernatural), Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:08:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23039107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeraBAdler/pseuds/VeraBAdler
Summary: A little late-night slow dancing segues into a little grind in Baby's backseat. Dean is so fucking happy.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 12
Kudos: 100





	Take It to the Limit

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by, and referring directly to, [the song of the same name](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bO4HnZ7XLsU) by The Eagles.

They've shut the place down, sticking around long past last call after the bartender-slash-owner took a shine to Sam. Come to think of it, Dean hasn't seen Sam or the bartender in a while. He sends up a silent wish to the Universe (not a prayer, thanks very much) that they're off havin' some lovin' in the back. His little brother's earned a little fun; they all have. The past few days have been monstertastic in all the worst sorts of ways. Tonight's as good a night as any for a good night off.

He and Cas are alone now in the dusky bar, slow dancing by the jukebox. The Eagles croon, _You can spend all your time making money, you can spend all your love making time_. Dean whisper-sings along with the next lines into his angel's ear – _If it all fell to pieces tomorrow, would you still be mine?_ Cas hums and holds him a little closer in response.

Dean's got his arms wrapped high around his baby's neck, beer bottle dangling lazily from one hand between Cas's shoulder blades. He pulls back a bit and looks his boyfriend in the face. That tiny hint of a smile hiding in one corner of Cas's pink mouth means he knows he's gonna be gettin' real lucky tonight. It's not like that's an impressive feat of clairvoyance, though. Dean is pretty much always a sure thing for his Cas.

A feeling rushes through him then, a warmth beyond the one the beer has brought. Dean loves this, loves everything about this moment – Cas's big warm hands on his hips, their bodies pressed together moving soft and slow, their breath caught between them like the best kind of secret. He swings one arm to the side and deposits the bottle on a nearby table. Then he brings his hand back in and tangles it into the angel's thick mop of black hair.

“You wanna get some air with me, baby?” he murmurs into that smiling corner of Cas's mouth. Without waiting for an answer, Dean turns and walks to the door, one hand gripping his boyfriend's sleeve. Cas lets himself be led, goes along for Dean like always, easy as butter melting off a biscuit.

The air in question, the air they supposedly left the bar to acquire, is mild, fragranced with jacaranda and musk sage, and irrelevant. Dean makes a beeline for the Impala and unlocks her back door with a well-practiced motion. He climbs in and gets comfortable, legs laid out along the bench seat and spine up against the other door, and begins taking off his shirt. Cas kneels over him, straddling Dean's thighs, and follows suit.

It's not simple for two grown men to strip themselves naked in the back seat of a late-60's muscle car, but they've got their methods down pat by now. Soon they're stretched out against each other, knees bent and interlocked, arms wrapped and holding close, and there's nothing but skin on skin from shoulder to ankle. Dean feels another surge of pure joy light him up inside. The parking lot is as shadowy and deserted as the bar was, and just like in the bar, it feels like they're the only people around for miles, two tiny glowing points of life in a vast expanse of darkness.

Cas's hands find their way back down to Dean's hips, and he pulls them into a steady rhythm against each other. The air in the car grows sultry, thick with the tang of sweat and precum. Dean runs his fingers over his angel's body – up to his hair, down to his ass, all the way along his broad, muscled back. They were both more than half-hard by the time they got into the car, and it doesn't take long for their shared pleasure to spike and crest. Cas comes first, moaning into Dean's collarbone as he spills between them. The warmth of Cas's breath and Cas's cum against him pushes Dean over the edge a heartbeat later.

They do a desultory wipe-up with someone's t-shirt. Dean covers them both with Cas's trench coat and snuggles in, his ear resting against his angel's sternum. The sound of a well-loved heart beating steady in the darkness lulls him into a doze. He figures it's a coin toss what will rouse them first – Sam or the sunrise. Either way, there are a few hours left in the night. They drift off together.

**Author's Note:**

> Rebloggable link for this fic on tumblr is [here](https://blessyourhondahurley.tumblr.com/post/611845050683490304/take-it-to-the-limit).


End file.
